


The Boy and His Angel

by Holypiestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4031896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holypiestiel/pseuds/Holypiestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running. Dean could constantly feel himself running. From his father. From the world. From all the responsibility. Yet when he unexpectedly meets the boy who has been haunting his dreams he has thee need to run to the boy and follow him in his times of need. In a race against time, Dean has to save both himself and Castiel from the impending danger that catches up to them from the past. Can Dean run to safety or will the Evil repel him from his destiny and throw him into the only fate he's ever known. Death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy and His Angel

Angels are watching over you Dean could never shake the feeling that his mother had been right. Through Jr. High, after his mother died, he read up on angels only to come to a dead end. What ghosts, werewolves, vampires, hell even Demons and there is no record of Angels? There had to be something. His obsession had gotten out of hand to the point that he’d stay up for days until he became dysfunctional. His grades were slipping and during hunts he was slacking. His father had banished him from utilizing any resources to hunt for them. Sam even became wary of what he included Dean in. Yet years later after Dean entered into high school he had thrown in the towel and decided he would avoid any sort of celestial topic. Sam being Sam though knew how important this was to Dean. He took notice of Dean’s curiosity and wanted to help. So of course when he tosses an old leather book onto Dean’s bed, he’s not sure what to expect.

  
“What’s this?” Dean leered up at his brother who wore a cheeky grin. Sam shrugged in response before collapsing down onto the floor.

  
“See for yourself.” He insisted. Dean thumbed through a couple pages, scanning things that Sam had highlighted. There wasn’t much to it but towards the end of the book it hit him. It was a particular passage though that called out to Dean.

  
For centuries this species watches over the human race. Each person receives a Guardian Angel at birth who grows up with them and watches over them without the knowledge of their Angel’s presence. At any moment their human is in extreme danger they’ll appear in order to protect them. Until then they will be there for these designated humans when needed.

  
“Something caught your eye?” Sam seated himself beside Dean. Immediately he turned the page and fell into recordings of sightings.

  
“I can’t believe- where did you find this?” He ignored his brother’s question although hope was starting to swell in his chest. Dean didn’t want to get ahead of himself.

  
“Uncle Bobby got it from his friend Rufus. He said it’s been passed on for generations. I guess his great grandma had an encounter with one.” Sam informed, shifting beside him to see what he was looking at.

  
“Yeah? What did she say?” It piqued Dean’s interest but he suddenly became overwhelmed. There was no way that the answers just suddenly had fallen into the hands of his brother. Not without some cost. Right?

  
“It’s in the middle of the book.” He motioned towards the book. He wanted to confront Sam about it but was too tired. So he gave his brother the benefit of the doubt and rolled back to lean against the headboard.

  
“Thanks for this.” He simpered softly at his brother who looked towards him eagerly.

  
“I know you’ve been looking forever. I couldn’t wait to finally give it to you.” His eyes glimmered as he spoke and Dean’s heart broke. He hoped this was cost free for his brother’s sake. For now he embraced the gift, setting the leather against the nightstand to reach over and squeeze his brother’s shoulder.

  
“I don’t know how to repay you Sammy. Thank you.” With a pat on Dean’s knee Sam stood up and wandered over to the door of his room.

  
“No problem. Glad I could help.” Once Sam closed the door Dean reached back to grab the cover to delve into the book without worry of invasion of privacy. There was so much information that he decided to take it slow and be thorough by starting at the front. He discovered more in three hours than he had for three years. Somehow he knew that this information was critical, dangerous even. He’d have to hide it from his father. He wouldn’t become obsessed with it like before. If he could help it.

  
_Black wings. They grew up to about 12 feet tall and spread what had seemed like the length of a football field. A figure which they had clung to flexed his back muscles to retract them then stretch them again. It was similar to the way that the tide of the ocean drifted to meet the sand only to pull back again before repeating. The feathers rustled against the slight breeze they created. The being slowly turned around to reveal their face. It was a boy no older than 17 with piercing blue eyes and jet black hair. The contrast against his tanned skin was almost blinding. Not to mention the aura of white that surrounded him._

  
_‘Dean’ His deep voice punctured the silence right before everything faded to black._

  
The sun had rolled down into the horizon only to creep back over the mountains in the distance and leak through the curtains of Dean’s room. He stirred awake from the odd dream only to find that the book had fallen against the floor along with what looked like his pants and a couple pillows. Shifting to sit on the side of the bed, he picked up the book to sift through it until he heard a knock on the door. He stashed it underneath his mattress before pulling on his pants.

  
“Come in.” He barked, reaching over to grab his boots and chuck them on. His father pushed open the door only to linger in the threshold.

  
“Hurry up or you and Sam will be late.” John ordered, giving him a smile when Dean finally met his gaze.

  
“Don’t want to be late for the first day of school.” Dean agreed. His dad nodded, leaving the door cracked before waking Sam up. Automatically Dean grabbed the book and shoved it into his empty bag then zipped it up. That would be efficient for his school necessities, right? Right now he was too tired to care. He slipped on a hoodie before leaving his room. Sam waded in the hallway, his hair perfectly combed and backpack strung up on his left shoulder. He handed Dean a piece of toast.

  
“You ready?” He asked, following him through the library.

  
“I was born ready.” He winked, jogging down the stairs to push out the front door and meet his dad at the Impala.

  
“Here goes nothing.” Sam mumbled while buckling himself in. There was an air of jitteriness that reminded Dean of how much they actually moved. He had hoped this would be a place they would stay for longer than a year. Lately though his hope wasn’t long lasting.

  
When they arrived there was already a swarm of kids hauling their crap into the front of the school. Cliques had been made and groups would battle for the top like rabid dogs. Sam and Dean would just be keeping their heads above water, as usual.

  
“Have a good day boys.” The hum of the engine picked up as John left the boys to head to work. Dean waved goodbye before slapping a hand on Sam’s shoulder.  
“Let’s give ‘em hell.” He grunted. Sam nodded in return, a small shade of panic touching his eyes.

  
“Hey relax. If anyone gives you any trouble just let me know okay? I’ll meet you in the cafeteria for lunch.” He promised as the bell shrilled, signaling that it was time to head to class.

  
The day flew by that once Dean had actually checked the time he realized it would be time to head to lunch in about thirty minutes. His attractive English teacher Ms. Marine was discussing the play Hamlet, and hell she made it the most interesting thing Dean had ever heard. So by the time the bell was ringing he was both pleased and disappointed.  
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Dean, can I speak with you before you leave?” She requested. Dean stood up, sauntering towards her desk. Hell yeah she could. She could do much more in fact if she wanted. But Dean wasn’t one for pressuring his girls. What happens will happen right?

  
“I’m not sure if this class is necessarily suited for your learning abilities.” Her words immediately killed his dreams so much that his mouth became dry to the point that he couldn’t speak.

  
“Uh-wha-what do you mean?” He finally chocked out, slightly embarrassed.

  
“I was looking through your transcript and noticed that you’ve taken this class three times before. You passed all of them. You do know that you won’t be receiving credit towards your English requirement for graduation correct?” He was momentarily relieved. At least she wasn’t inferring that he was stupid or something.

  
“Uh- no I was unaware.” Dean replied, drumming his knuckles against the desk. She placed her hand on his to stop the incessant nervous tick.

  
“Well I think you’re an intelligent kid from what your previous schools have said about you, so I’m going to talk to Principle Welcher and see if we can get you changed to a more advanced class.” Dean wanted to choke on his tongue. The only school experience he could remember that actually ended well for him was preschool where there was only half a day and extra snack time. Any other school he had attended ended in suspension or expulsion. He was curious as to what referral she was speaking about. And intelligence wise? He had gotten a C at best in the classes previously. There would be no way that he could pass anything higher than this class. It was so easy for him that he didn’t understand the reason behind changing it.

  
“I’m not really sure if that would be a good idea.” He warned with nervous laughter.

  
“Nonsense. I looked through your writing portfolio and your philosophy on how the evil of the world is actually well hidden blew me away. I think you could benefit from a challenge.” Dean wanted to punch Sam for making that essay, and then kick himself for turning it in. Sure Dean was smart, in the hunting kind of way and when it came to legends or how to stun a ghost but there was nothing necessarily deep about his writing except for the poetry he hid beneath his bed. Sam would need more free time if Dean wanted to pass this new class.

  
“Uh yeah about that-“

  
“I’ll run it by Mr. Welch this afternoon and we’ll let you know by Thursday.” Dean’s stomach sunk. That was tomorrow. He had to think of a plan and fast. There was no way Sam would put up with this. He’d do something dumb like actually force Dean to do school work by bringing their dad in on it. Not like John was really interested in forcing Dean to excel in English, but he did like for Sam and Dean to uphold the sort of family façade, minus the ghouls and demons plus the great grades and semi-normal social life. Sam went through a phase where he would only speak to the dolls in his room. That was when he was younger of course and it was for a short period of time but man did his brother never live that down.  
Dean found himself stumbling out of her room and blindly finding his way to the cafeteria. Sam had chosen a lone corner near the back of the room, Dean’s bagged lunch already assembled in place.

  
“Sammy you’ll never believe the crazy day I’ve had.” He started, sliding onto the bench next to him.

  
“Is that so?” Sam didn’t care to look up.

  
“Yeah, so I have this hot English teacher right?” Dean could practically hear the eye roll that commenced after he finished his sentence.

  
“Of course.” He chuckled humorlessly, picking the tomatoes out of his salad.

  
“Anyways, smarty pants. She said that she was going to put me in a higher class.” That’s when Sam looked up from his greens, eyes wide.

  
“Ha no way are you going to pass that class!” Sam teased yet in all reality they both knew Sam was right. It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes.

  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’ll see about that.” He remarked, tossing aside the zip lock that held his peanut butter sandwich.

  
“So how has your day gone?” He asked through his obnoxious chewing. Well obnoxious to Sam that is.

  
“Pretty boring actually. Learned about the chemical combination for cyanide, which I already knew, and discovered that lightning strikes produce O3.” He practically yawned. Dean’s eyes almost bugged out of his head but honestly he wasn’t all too surprised that Sam had proven yet again what a genius he was.

  
“Oh yeah, psh, so boring.” He played, slugging Sam in the shoulder. In return Sam busted out laughing before returning to his leaves.

  
“You gunna put any meat on that bunny food?” Dean taunted, poking at the lettuce before Sam swatted his hand away.

  
“No Hannibal the Cannibal, I’ll pass.” He teased, shucking a thing of vinaigrette onto his salad and taking a bite. Dean shifted in his seat.

  
“There are so many hot girls here.” He noted before picking up the end of his sandwich and finished it in one whole gulp.

  
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Sam shrugged in return. Dean gawked at him momentarily before shaking his head.

  
“Anyways, have you made any friends?” He wasn’t really itching to return to the topic on girls for a while.

  
“Yeah her names Charlie. I met her in the library. She loves Lord of The Rings.” He mused, taking a swig of his water before leering at Dean.

  
“That’s awesome.” Dean had hope that this year would be better for Sam. With every school they’ve been to Sam had been the center of bully attention. It was no wonder Dean had always gotten suspended. He couldn’t suppress the need to protect his brother so he stopped fighting it and put it to good use.

  
“What about you? Anyone you found interesting?” Sam wondered. As for Dean he had always been kind of a loner. In his eyes there was no sense in making friends if they were just going to move in a couple of months.

  
“Nah, you know me. A rolling stone.” He motioned waves with his right hand. Sam shook his head in laughter.

  
“Alright. Works for me.” He grinned.

  
The bell rang about thirty minutes later, bringing them out of their small discussion.

  
“Dad says he can’t make it to pick us up until later so I’ll meet you in the library and we can wait for him there.” Dean planned. Sam nodded in agreement before saying goodbye and scurrying off to class. Dean waited a while, staring at the sea of bodies that wobbled out of the cafeteria. Finally he pushed off the bench and headed to the football field. Lucky for him his last two classes we’re study hall, seeing that this was his senior year they only had to take four classes a day leaving the other two up to the student to decide what they wanted to do with their time. Dean of course chose the easy way out and decided that he would do nothing.

  
When he sauntered out onto the field he was relieved to find that there was no-one there due to the fact that football season had just ended. He settled with one of the bleachers towards the ground before digging the book of Angel legends out of his mess of parent signature slips and syllabuses. A surge of excitement leaped through him when he pealed it open and flipped to a couple pages past his last stopping point. This would give him days of reading material that he couldn’t resist.

  
By the time he had finished the history of the Archangels, Metatron being one of the biggest douches he had ever read about and that was saying something, it was time to head to the library to meet Sam. Quickly, he jumped up from his seat and hurried across the campus until he came upon two huge doors and one gigantic entryway.

  
Sam was already seated across from a lovely red head as they both giggled amongst text. Dean slapped his palms against the table causing the both unsuspecting children to jump out of their stupor.

  
“Hey Sammy, mind introducing me to your friend here?” Dean insisted.

  
“Charlie this is my brother Dean, Dean this is Charlie.” Dean reached across the table to offer a hand. She took it in gratitude with a firm squeeze.  
“It’s awesome to finally meet you! Sam was telling me all about how much he looks up to you. I can see why.” She cooed before turning her attention back to Sam who was bright red. Dean just clapped him on his shoulder before plopping down in the chair beside his brother.

  
“So are you waiting on a ride as well?” Dean tried a conversation starter with Charlie. She shook her head in return.

  
“No I’m just keeping Sam here company until my girlfriend gets out of Literature class.” Dean raised his eyebrows momentarily before coughing to mask his surprise.  
“Well that’s very nice of you. Sam always likes buddies to hang around.” Dean wanted to kick himself because he was just sounding more and more like John. Sam sunk more into his seat from embarrassment. Dean knew he’d be hearing it from Sam later.

  
“I’m glad to be of assistance. We we’re just talking about how you’ve never seen Lord of The Rings.” Charlie mentioned, leafing through a set of dictionaries before her. Dean knew that Charlie was going to be the perfect friend for Sam. He could tell how much they had bonded already.

  
“Yeah not my kind of scene. But I support Sammy’s choice in being nerdy.” Dean laughed but by the way silence pursued he could tell that Sam was becoming more and more humiliated by the minute.

  
“Alright well you guys have fun talking about Lord of The Rings and Bilbo Braffins while I check out the girls in the magazine section.” Sam opened his mouth to correct the reference but Dean was already wandering over to a petite brunette who already had her eyes on him.

  
Dean propped his forearm on the shelf above where she stood and grinned down at the pages that were shifting between her thumb and index finger.  
“Nice shoes. I’m sure they’d look even better on you.” He quipped before pushing off the bookshelf to push out a hand.

  
“Nice to meet you, I’m Dean. Dean Winchester.” She muddled over the thought of what he guessed was his name before collecting his palm between her fingers.

  
“I’m Carla Summers. Is this your first day? I haven’t seen you around before.” The magazine between her hands had become last year’s news as she shifted her body towards him and made sure that her lip became poutier than what it had been a few moments ago. Dean digged it.

  
“Yeah just arrived from Chicago.” He explained, picking at something imaginary on the shelves to act a little less interested and somehow a little more suave. It seemed to be working when she placed her hand on his bicep.

  
“Oh wow, is your family Italian?” The stereotype hit Dean like a freight train and he realized that maybe he was more intelligent than he gave himself credit for. Her babble was starting to sound obnoxious but he waited in hopes that the conversation would curve in a better direction.

  
“Uh no. We move around a lot. I’m originally from Lawrence, Kansas.” She cocked her head to the side and then gave a small giggle.

  
“Oh no way so you must have had a farm and cows and stuff. I heard there’s lots of wheat there.” Dean wanted to bang his head against the wall.

  
“Uh yeah sure. I’ve gotta go but hopefully I’ll see you around.” He jabbed his thumb behind him before twisting around and heading towards Sam who greeted him with amusement shaping his eyes.

  
“It was nice meeting you Sean Wincester.” She called after Dean. Sam couldn’t help but chuckle at her comment.  
“Not so good luck today huh?” Sam gestured vaguely to the girl’s vicinity.

  
“Uh no. She asked if I had cows when I told her where we’re from.” Dean grunted, drumming his fingers against the table before grabbing one of Sam’s books that he could pretend to be interested in.

  
“Well she’s not entirely wrong about her assumption. Our friend Billy’s dad owned a farm and cows.” Sam pointed out. Dean shook his head and chuckled in reply to his comment.

  
“Yeah but I don’t know.” Normally things like that wouldn’t have bothered him but Dean was annoyed by her statement. Maybe it would wear off by tomorrow and they could spend some more time together.

  
“I doubt she’ll change though. She’s your type yeah but intellectually I don’t think she meets your standards.” Sam adds as if he had read Dean’s mind. That wouldn’t be entirely bizarre seeing as Sam always knew the right things to say and the right time to say them.

  
“Uh yeah. Maybe I should change my type.” His lips popped on the p as he leaned forward to try to pay more attention to the words that ran across the page. By the second paragraph he was already bored. He tossed the hardback against the wood with a loud thud, jolting Charlie awake from her nap.  
“Morning sunshine. Sorry didn’t mean to wake you.” Dean chuckled, before shifting again in his seat. He checked the clock, anxious to get home and back to the only book that was holding his interest. He was in luck as the big hand read 5 o’clock.

  
“Dad said he’d be here at 5. Let’s go wait out front for him.” Dean insisted. Sam obliged, collecting his things and saying a brief goodbye to Charlie before he noticed Dean was already out the door. Scurrying to follow in pursuit, Sam nearly lost his balance before he finally caught up with Dean.

  
“What was that about?” He questioned, pushing past a group of Jocks who were oblivious to their passing.

  
“I just want to get home. It’s been a long day.” Dean insisted before jogging down a flight of stairs and emerging through the front of the school. Sure enough the Impala laid idle against the sidewalk where John leaned against it.

  
“Hey boys. How was your first day?” John pushed off the side of it and opened the backseat for Sam as Dean slid into the passenger side.

  
“Pretty good. I made a new friend and Dean got rejected by his English teacher.” Sam teased, plopping down onto the leather bench. Dean reached back to pinch Sam’s elbow in which he squealed in return.

  
“Is that so? Care to elaborate Dean?” John seemed intrigued as he shifted the Impala into drive and drifted out onto the road in route to their house.

  
“It’s nothing. My teacher just wants me to be in a higher level English class.” Dean peered out the window at the kids wandering home on foot or pumping the wheels vigorously on their bikes.

  
“Well that’s great son.” Dean moved simultaneously with John’s hand when it clapped on his shoulder and rocked him forward.

  
“So tell me about this new friend, Sam.” The conversation jumped from the usual subject to subject but there was no mention of any new jobs which caused Dean to be relieved. He just wanted time to be a normal kid again. No worry about anything supernatural. But for the most part he was happy about the fact that Sam would have some time to relax and enjoy his time at a new school with hopefully some good friends.

  
By the time they arrived home the book was practically burning a hole through Dean’s backpack. He was itching to start up where he left off. So much that he shoveled dinner into his mouth, asked to be excused from the table then jogged up to his room and locked himself inside.

  
The book was leaning up against his nightstand beckoning him forward. He clambered forward yet as he got closer his vision blurred. Swiping a hand aimlessly before him, he accidently knocked the book to the floor. A loud bang echoed in its present state. The momentarily blind incident immediately cleared as Dean bent down to retrieve the book.When he turned it over to examine the pages it fell on he noticed that there on the left side the paper had been burnt to a crisp except for a sentence that read  
_He who is claimed by the dark angel may manifest a demon_

  
“What the hell?” He mumbled to himself before folding the book together and sinking into his mattress. The image of the black wings he had witnessed in his dream flashed on the inside of his eyelids. What had that passage meant and why was he meant to see it? A demon? Aren’t Angels and Demons mortal enemies. Dean was uncertain of what it had meant. Maybe if he brought it to Sam his brother could figure it out. There really wasn’t any need though for Dean to drag Sam into this. He just wanted them to be normal for once. Yet the words kept repeating over and over in his head. Like they were meant for him and his eyes only.

  
“Dean you okay in there?” It was Sam, his voice cracked with worry.

  
“Uh, yeah sorry just dropped something.” He replied. Sam hesitated on the other side of the before stalking off to his room and closing the door with a low thud. What had gotten into him? Dean wanted to go and check on him but suddenly his eyelids became extremely heavy. There hadn’t been a lack of sleep these past couple nights but he accepted sleep lovingly before he fell off the brink of unconsciousness only to be swallowed up into a dream.

  
_Rain drummed against the Impala’s windshield. Dean was alone in the car, his fingers tensing against the steering wheel when he fell into his body. Immediately, he tried the windshield wipers to get a good look at his surroundings but a clicking noise emitted when the action fell short. The blades refused to move, jerking in place until Dean shut them off. He cursed underneath his breath before pulling on his black hoodie then drew the car door open. The pouring rain met him in a sheer wet blanket. Yet it was oddly soft for the amount that was falling. He pulled his hood down closer to hover above his eyes so he could get a look at where he was standing. An abandon bridge lay before him, the brick rotting off the side and crumbling in the middle. There wasn’t a straight pathway yet beneath it the passage was fully covered. Drawn to it, he jogged to take cover from the downpour. Mud splashed against his jeans and boots yet never was he detoured from his path. He would have expected it to sink beneath his weight but it felt as if he were floating against it, the only thing acknowledging his contact were the splashes of water. The closer he got though he realized there was figure perched at the top, his back to Dean covered with what looked like a black blanket. Dean skirted to a stop, chucking his hand over his eyes to shield his vision from the rain to catch a good look. The material was shivering against him and once Dean squinted he realized that it wasn’t a blanket at all but wings enclosed around the boy as a shield of protection. Without thinking Dean yelled ‘Hey’ towards the stranger. There was a small jerk in his posture. Dean knew the boy had heard him but there was no other interaction. Picking up the pace again Dean made his way towards the mysterious boy whom he recognized from his previous dream. He stopped right before he could disappear under the tunnel and threw his arms up to the sky. ‘Hey you!’ The words breached from his mouth and landed smack dab onto the boy’s back. He fell from the side and collapsed before Dean, his entire body trembling. The wings weren’t much help as they fell against the ground after waving around erratically to try and get the boy off the ground. Impulsively, Dean reached down and turned him around so that his face was visible. He wiped off the mud on the inside of his jacket while he tried to pull the boy awake. Blood fell from his mouth as his naked chest heaved forward. He opened his mouth to scream out but all that came was a small gag. ‘Hey, relax. I’ve got you’ the words flew out of his mouth reflexively. The need to protect this boy became a wild fire overwhelming his chest. ‘How ironic that I’m supposed to be the one protecting you’ the boy chuckled humorlessly before everything faded to black._

  
Dean jerked awake, screaming out to silence while he thrashed against the sheets that stuck to his body in cold sweat. His door flew open and John was running to his aid, sinking beside his bed to shake him awake.

  
“Dean! Dean wake up! Are you alright?” He boomed.

  
“I’m awake. E-everything’s fine. I j-just- it was just a nightmare.” The worlds struggled to form on his lips as he pushed to make a coherent sentence.

  
“About what?” John pressed, unlatching his fingers from Dean’s shoulders. He couldn’t explain it to his father. So when the words “darkness” slipped from his lips he realized they were far from what he had meant to say.

  
“Are you okay?” John repeated, not sure how to reply to his explanation. Who could blame him? Dean wasn’t even sure what to say.

  
“Uh, yeah I’m fine. It’s just a dream.” Yet he couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that it wasn’t over. Maybe he wouldn’t see it again tonight but the scene he experienced. The meaning of it was just emerging. He curled over onto his side to avoid the worried look that wrecked his father’s face.

  
“I promise I’m okay. Just get some sleep. You’ve got work early tomorrow.” He mumbled. John sat there for a moment before patting Dean’s side.

  
“Okay, son. I’m in the study down the hall if you need me.” There was no more exchange between them but he could hear and extra pair of feet shuffling in the doorway.  
“Just a bad dream. Let him rest.” John informed Sam. His younger brother stammered a quiet reply which Dean couldn’t hear before whispering something to what seemed like no one and then headed back into his own room.

  
How ironic that I’m supposed to be the one protecting you the words rang softly in Dean’s ears as if the boy’s lips were right beside him. A shudder crept down his back as he coaxed back the dream only to feel it fall like sand between his fingers. The boy was gone from his brain for now but Dean knew he’d see him again.

  
Dawn approached quickly, as the sun said goodnight to the moon before creeping up above the horizon the birds awoke with a song that matched the neighboring ones. They all harmonized until people started to move about inside of their homes. Their melody melted into the background of garage doors drawing open and cars coasting to work or school. Dean shifted against his comforter as he took note of the movement across the street and the bird that perched itself on his windowsill. He had never noticed these things before. The amount of life that actually hummed into action this early in the morning was fascinating. Dean peered over at his alarm clock to prove his assumption. The red numbers blinked 6:40. He had about twenty minutes before Sam or his dad would come and wake him up. Sinking against his pillow, he relished these moments that reminded him of his mother’s warmth. She was like a relaxing morning where you always felt like somehow you had more time. He ached to see her again.

  
Exactly twenty minutes later the door creaked open and Sam slipped into Dean’s room. He crept across the hardwood floor to softly sway him awake. His eyelids fluttered open. Sam simpered at his brother before holding up a paper towel that barred a plain bagel with strawberry cream cheese. Dean smiled at Sam in return before retrieving the food with much gratitude.

  
“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean knew that his brother was worried about him by the way his brow had to unfurl before he allowed Dean to see his face. As if he were trying to compose himself. Sam and John must have discussed last night already.

  
“Hey, bud. I’m alright okay? No need to worry about me. I’m a fighter remember?” Sam looked unsure for a moment before twisting his lips to the side of his face then let them melt into another smile. This time his eyes were tinged with sadness.

  
“I-I know. It doesn’t mean that I still don’t worry. You’re my brother, Dean. I want you to know that I’m always here for you.” Dean’s heart faltered and for some odd reason his chest squeezed with the urge to cry.

  
“I know that. And I appreciate it.” He ruffled his brother’s hair before scooting over to give Sam some room to perch himself. The mattress creaked underneath his weight before settling beneath the both of them.

  
“So dad was thinking that after school we’d go watch a baseball game. What do you think?” Dean almost busted out in laughter. They hadn’t been to a game since Mom died. He wondered what the occasion was but Dean had a good feeling it was about his episode last night.

  
“Sounds great.” He replied, getting up to shimmy into his jeans pulling on a green over shirt and his boots.

  
“Now come on, we’ve got school.” Dean said through bites of his bagel. The Impala purring alive outside as a reinforcement.

  
Dean trudged to class as everyone zoomed past him. The warning bell chimed picking up everyone else’s pace but his own. The night terror had drained him to the point that he was unsure if he would make it through the entire day without collapsing.

  
By the time English rolled around his body had become stiff with exhaustion. Ms. Marine met him at the doorway, closing it so that the other kids couldn’t hear their conversation.

  
“So I talked to Mr. Welch and he definitely agreed to you not being challenged enough in this class. Your first day in your new English class is today. The room number is 401 and the teacher is Mr. Murphy."

  
“Today, today?” His head starting spinning.

  
“Yes. Do you need me to show you to your class?” She wondered, oblivious to the fact that Dean didn’t want to go. He considered ditching but realized that he’d have to face Sam during lunch and lying to his brother wasn’t really going to work right now. Not when he was so drained.

  
“Uh- no I’ll figure it out. Thanks.” He flashed her a weak smile before following the map to rows of lockers down before hooking a left and then another left and two more rights before the room 401 fell before him. His shaky hand gripped at the handle but before he turned it there was a shock that radiated into him. He jerked his grip away and simultaneously the door flung open. No one had opened it and the teacher was staring blankly at him. Shaking his shock Dean wobbled into the room before waving his hand awkwardly at the teacher.

  
“Hey. I’m your new student from Ms. Marine’s class. Dean-“

  
“Ah Mr. Winchester. Yes I was told about you. Please have a seat.” Dean hadn’t scanned the room yet so when he turned his head to find a place to sit, he almost immediately jerked back in either awe or fear. Sitting towards the back was the boy, the one from his dreams. Black dots danced across his vision before the boy’s blue eyes glared into him. Their eye contact sent a jolt through Dean and that’s when he collapsed onto the ground only to hit his head against the tile and black out. Not before he had the chance to see the boy restrain himself from running to Dean’s aid, his blue eyes filled with fear and the urge to protect. Dean could recognize it from anywhere.

  
The boy was before him, his chest bare unlike before and his wings rustling gently against an imaginary wind. ‘Wake up, Dean’ he prompted but it was so soft, so lax that Dean was unsure if that was what the boy truly wanted. His skin tingled as he sank deeper and deeper into the realm of unconsciousness. He was starting to like it here. With that thought the boy became urgent, his brow furrowing. ‘Wake up, Dean’ he boomed.

  
A light warmed against Dean’s eyelids, pulling him out of the darkness. When he blinked his eyes open a blinding yellow light that hit his senses immediately. He jerked up, shielding his eyes.

  
“Get that away from me.” He growled, pushing the hand away from him. Anger surged through his body as he uncurled off the couch of the nurse’s office. He hated anything that had to do with sickness, especially the nurse’s office. He avoided it like the plague.

  
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” He repeated, swatting away the girl who was pressing an icepack to his forehead. There was a twinge of pain there but he ignored it. She backed up before hurrying to alert the other nurse that he had woken up.

  
“Hey Dean-“

  
“Can I leave?” Anxiety grew in his chest as he stood, only to fall back against the couch once his head felt drained off all the blood. Black dots danced across his vision again, beckoning him to give into them. He ignored them too.

  
“You’re not well enough. We called your father to come and get you. We recommend that you go to a hospital. You might have a concussion.” He wanted to vomit at the thought.

  
“No way. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I just need to rest.” He countered. The nurse shook her head and handed him the icepack.

  
“Fifteen seconds on and off. Make sure to alternate.” She finally gave in and wandered back out the door. Wading in the threshold a boy in jeans and a long sleeve black sweater drew his eyes up from the ground. It was him. The boy who had haunted his dreams and wore blood the night before. He looked even more innocent before, his jaw clenching as Dean met his gaze.

  
“Who are you?” Dean croaked before the boy had time to choose whether or not it was the right time to leave. The boy shrugged in response, swiveling on his heel to leave. Dean leapt of the couch and caught his wrist. A shock jolted through the contact of skin but Dean didn’t let go. The boy twirled to level his eyes with Dean’s. He was about a foot shorter and probably ten pounds light but somehow Dean was struggling to hold him. The boy brought up the hand that Dean held, pressing two fingers to his temple before unlatching Dean’s death grip and vanishing down the hall.

  
Dean’s headache had left and his exhaustion became almost nonexistent. He wanted to chase after him but he realized it would be no use. The boy was probably already half way across the campus by now.

  
Glancing at the clock he realized that it was thirty minutes already dented into lunch. He threw the icepack in the trashcan before hustling over to the cafeteria. Charlie was warming Dean’s seat as she tangled her fingers into another girl’s hand and chatting excitedly with Sam.

  
“Hey sorry I-I was held a little late.” He lied, before dropping on the other side of Sam and grabbing his bag.

  
“How has your day been?” Sam greeted him, pushing a napkin in his direction that held three small cookies.

  
“What’s this?” Dean motioned towards them before grabbing one a taking a small bite. His taste buds exploded against the soft almost doughy substance. He shoved another into his mouth and chowed down as if he hadn’t eaten in ages. Everything about it tasted magnificent, almost heavenly. There was no way he had breakfast this morning. It was as if the last meal he had was ages ago.

  
“Charlie’s mom made some and she brought us some!” Sam explained happily, chewing against his own pair of cookies.

  
“Wow. Thanks.” He grinned before opening up his lunch sack. There was more than usual, a juice box sitting idly on a stack of junk food. He tore open the bag of Doritos first before chucking them down his throat and going about eating the next five items the same way.

  
“Whoa, dude slow down. You sure you have room for all that?” Sam teased before sliding a piece of his own sandwich into his mouth.  
“Yeah. Plenty.” Dean grinned at him with food smashed between his cheeks.

  
Lunch went by fairly quickly and before he realized it, Sam and Charlie had finished up and said their goodbyes with the bell. In only a couple minutes flat the entire cafeteria was empty and Dean found himself wandering towards the football field almost as if a magnetic force field was drawing him there.

  
He found a comfortable seating position before he dug the book out of his bag and settled into it. That’s when a huge gust of wind yanked the book out of his grip and tore his posture down the bleachers until he was standing up and straddling a bench.

  
“Come on. Stupid book.” He groaned, trying to fish it out from the rafters underneath the metal seating area. When he finally grabbed a hold of it he wanted to cheer in glory not before it slipped from his fingers and fell onto the ground below.

  
“Sonofabitch.” He grunted, pushing himself off the seat and jogging down the steps to retrieve it.

  
When he rounded the corner eager to find his book of Angels the boy met him on the other side.

  
“Is this yours?” The thing sat heavy in his palm as he stood up to hand it over to Dean.

  
“Uh- yeah thanks.” He muttered, grabbing it out of his hands. They stood there awkwardly for a moment and Dean realized that maybe this kid had no idea about Dean’s dreams of him. Yet the coincidence was so odd. Maybe it wasn’t really him but they sure held a hell of a lot of resemblance.

  
“My names Castiel Novak.” He held out his hand to Dean who took it slowly in return. Static ran against their skin but settled to a dull vibration until it disappeared completely. Castiel must have been oblivious to it because he barely even flinched at the connection of skin. Dean on the other hand was vibrating.

  
“Dean. I’m Dean Winchester. Weird name you got there.” He commented. Castiel chuckled in response, his shoulders shaking lightly. It was a good look on him. The thought jolted through Dean and he wanted to kick himself for ever thinking it. What the hell had gotten into him?

  
“My parents were super religious apparently.” Castiel responded, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck as sort of a nervous tick.

  
“Were?” Dean pointed out. Castiel rose to meet his gaze, sending another shock wave through Dean’s body.

  
“Yeah they died right after I was born in a car accident.” He said, muted.

  
“That’s too bad. I’m sorry about that. My mom died too. In a fire.” The words were tumbling out of Dean’s mouth before he had time to stop them. He had no control over his verbal and mental dialogue apparently. Maybe it was the concussion, although he doubted it very strongly.

  
Castiel seem unmoved by his confession but Dean decided that it was just because he must have been used to pain. Something in his eyes alerted Dean of that. They looked older, wiser even, like he had been through a lot.

  
“So are you gunna tell me what happened back there at the nurse’s office?” Dean grunted through the awkward silence that hung in the air.

  
“What do you mean?” Castiel tilted his head to the side in confusion. Dean thought it was cute but seconds later was worried as to why he even took note of that.  
“Back there at the nurse’s office. You did that thing-with your-“

  
“I’m not sure what you’re referring too.” There was a warning in his tone. Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something entirely not human about this boy. The way his skin practically glowed along with his bright blue eyes. There was obviously something he was hiding.

  
“Look I’m not stupid okay. I know you did something for me.” Castiel shifted uncomfortably, mulling over Dean’s words for a moment.

  
“I have to go.” He lurched forward, Dean whipping around as he tried to catch him but Castiel darted out of reach and hurried away. Dean turned around and watched him flee, dumbfounded as his shoes sunk into the mud and his legs refused to chase after him. It was obvious that the more and more Dean tried to get this kid to talk there was more of a block the kid put up. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was about but he knew that with his stubbornness Dean wouldn’t be able to let it go. Just like he couldn’t let go of the Angel lure. What an odd thought to dawn on him in this moment.


End file.
